


This Is My Home, These Are My Demons

by enenrayokai



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen, Light Angst, Past Torture, Reid centric, Team Kidnapping, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9502811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enenrayokai/pseuds/enenrayokai
Summary: Time falters for a brief moment, and all he can see is his past coming to haunt him.  "Leave the past behind," people had told him, and he is trying to do just that.  But his demons are waiting in the darkness ready to strike the BAU.  So now here Reid is, tied to a chair with his eyes locked upon the six people in front of him.





	1. Look Into My Soul and You Will Know the Truth

Reid stumbles into the bullpen a few minutes after midnight. His hair is falling unceremoniously about his face obscuring his features and shadows dance across his form. His white button up shirt is crinkled from the sweater vest that had once covered it, but that vest had been ditched long ago. 

His breath is coming in gasping intervals and its seems as if there is not enough oxygen in the room. He feels like he's suffocating.

"A pleasure Spencer. I thought you would never come." The sarcasm drips from the words as they fill the room. Apprehension fills Reid. A slow shiver creeps down his spine, tingling his senses.

"Adam, you don't have to do this." Reid begs. A slight quiver accompanies his voice.

"I already have." A sinister laugh escapes the man's lips and Reid takes a cautious step backward. His arms wrap protectively around his lithe frame and he shakes his head frantically. The room is casted in darkness and only a single lamp sheds light into the area. Adam strides forward confidently and a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. He nods curtly toward Reid, swiftly turns, and walks up to the briefing room.

When he's about halfway there he turns and comments, "Coming Spencer?" It's a statement, not a question. As if something has physically spurred him into action, Reid staggers forward. His lanky limbs trying hard to listen to his brain. His mind is playing probability after probability, and things aren't looking so good. The odds are definitely not in his favor.

When Reid reaches the room his first observation is that it seems almost normal. Everyone from the team- like per usual- is sitting around the table as if they are about to discuss an upcoming case; but Reid knows better. This is not a case, nor is it a normal day.

Everything is all wrong. From the tears streaking JJ's face, to the quiet barely contained anger pulsing through Morgan's, to the stiff and pained features of Garcia. Everything is different now.

"I like your friends Spencer. Real nice people." The tone is malicious. Adam stands between JJ and Garcia his hand resting on the back of each of their chairs. He brings his right hand to caress Garcia's face and she lets out a simple whimper. Reid's blood runs cold.

"Don't you touch her." Steady and commanding. Reid straightens to his full height, a new resolve settling in him. Garcia's eyes fly up to meet Reid's gaze and everything falls into place. He knows what he has to do.

"What will you do, hmmm?" The question is meant to be taunting, but Reid only smiles.

The smirk is nothing the BAU team has ever seen cross his features. It's a twisted kind of smile. One they see on mad men.

The smile dances upon his lips and light from a streetlamp streams through the window causing Reid's face to hold high contrasting of light and dark.

"Anything." The single word rings in Adam's ears and he mirrors Reid's smile. Hotch throws a concerned glance toward Rossi, who in turn nods his head in anticipation.

"Reid, don't do anything stupid." The tone is gentle, but authoritative. Reid's eyes meet Hotch's for a mere moment before he breaks the contact and returns his focus toward Adam. Morgan begins to struggle and the chair begins to squeal in opposition. The quiet room is being flooded with noise.

Prentiss is trying to get Reid's attention, Garcia is completely victim to her tears, JJ is trying to convince Reid to try to escape, and Morgan is screaming profanity towards Adam. Hotch is stoic as ever, but his eyes show the ache of his soul and Rossi is sitting quietly, taking everything in- it might be useful later.

"Don't worry, it will be okay." The words are barely audible, but the entire team hears it. Garcia begins to cry uncontrollably at the implications of his words. Her boy genius is going to save them... but at what cost to himself.


	2. A Broken Man May Still Learn to Live

Adam and Reid are alone down in the bullpen. Occasional shouts seep from the conference room, but it barely fazes the two individuals. Their words are hushed, but audible. Reid's posture is taught with noticeable unease. Tension leaking from his every move, but his face shows an eery calm.

"You're an interesting man, Spencer Reid." Hearing his name come from this man's mouth sends a shiver down Reid's spine. A night time chill takes over his body. Wind blows swiftly outside and Reid cannot help but let his gaze fall to the window. A strange mixture of emotions on his features.

Their unsub is taking a keen interest in the youngest agent. A game of cat and mouse had begun the second the BAU team had taken the case in their home turf. A sadistic killer, murdering males looking strangely similar to Reid. Same stature; same big, brown eyes; same age range. 

The first few days of the case had been unnerving. With everybody everyone couldn't help but imagine it was Reid; the unsub was seeking out Reid look a likes and torturing them one by one. Everyone had been on edge; more so than usual.

"Imagine my surprise when I found out who exactly the BAU was. I found you Spencer, such a perfect boy." Adam's words linger in the air. His tone is soft, reflective. His eyes take on a dreamlike quality and for a brief moment it seems as if he has escaped to some far away land.

Reid watches Adam carefully and the man's back goes from slightly hunched over to stiff with tension.

"Let's play a game. You're different from the others, better."

Reid's body stiffens at the tone. Adam walks closer to Reid and he lingers a few feet from the agent. They make eye contact as a response to the silence of the room, until a crash is heard from the briefing room.

Adam's head shoots up, anger gracing his features. His brown eyes gleam in the moonlight and his face becomes a composition of angular planes.

Reid's mind is quickly taking everything in, he's trying to make a plan and failing. He has profiled this man; he has the upper hand- he just needs to figure out how to use it to his advantage.

"I remind you of your brother, don't I?" Reid's voice is timid. Adam looks toward Reid and his smile falters.

"Shut up." He bellows. His hand makes quick contact with Reid's cheek and the agent is thrown off balance. Reid fall backward, his hair hanging loosely about his face; a growing bruise panting his cheek.

"So silly Spencer." Adam shakes his head slightly, and his features seem to soften. A fire lights his eyes. "No agent, you remind me of a boy my father made perfect." His voice remains steady.

"That boy was your brother, Adam. Robby, was that perfect boy. Your father tortured him. Your father killed him." Reid voices. The flow of his words seem to meld together, a mere shadow of his normal rambling self.

Adam's posture changes, his back becomes ridged and his head lifts slightly. His whole body becomes eerily calm, all the uncontrolled anger from before dissipates from his body. He tilts his head to the right and his gaze lands on Reid, a smile graces his features.

"Seems you have me all figured out. Let's make a deal shall we? How far will you go for your, team?" The last word is full of venom. The room seems to still for a brief moment and the moonlight from the window sends streaks of silver light into the bull pen.

"What do you have in mind?" Adam smirks.

"You've seen what I did to those other boys." It's a statement. Reid nods. "For every half hour that you remain quite as I torture you, I will let one of your team free. Let me have my way with you, and if you can keep that mouth shut- which I've heard you're not particularly good at- your team may just live."

Silence finds the room and Adam turns from Reid only to walk toward the stairs. "I'd like to check on your friends," the words are carefully stated, "tell them about my deal with you. Give it some thought Spencer, and come up and tell the team and I what you have decided. When you're ready of course." The last part is added off handedly.

Adam's face falls into the stream of moonlight and his eyes seem to glow. Striking green eyes meet Reid's before Adam turns and continues up the stairs.

"Can you save them?" Adam is mocking Reid, taunting him; and it's working.

Minutes pass, and Reid stands still. Frozen in place. The second Adam was out of sight his entire frame had dropped onto the desk behind him. He was leaning heavily upon the wood, his legs shaking with fear.

Reid's hands are shaking as tears stream down his pale face. He knows what he must do- in fact, he had already made his decision the second Adam had verbalized it. He would do anything for his team. He just knew he needs this time to mentally fortify himself for what is to come.

The single agent treks up the stairs with great anticipation, but the tears are all but erased. He reaches the top and watches as his team looks at him with angst. Hotch's resolve has falter noticeably.

Before anyone can try to talk him out of it, and before anyone can speak, Reid's voice fills the room.

"Deal"


	3. I Once was a Little Boy, Do You Remember it?

He didn't realize they would have to watch. The whole situation seems surreal; Reid is still waiting to wake up. His lithe frame is tied to a chair, arms and feet secured effectively. His back is ridged as it follows the flow of the uncomfortable desk chair.

The team, in a similar position is sitting before him, like an audience of sorts. Adam takes the time to clear the desks away in the bullpen to create a larger open space. In such space the BAU team resides. Reid on one side and his team facing him on the other.

Everything seems to falter- just briefly- until Reid's resolve quickly solidifies. His features become hard, a dangerous gleam takes residence in his eyes. He's ready.

The rest of the team is not quite as happy about this situation. Duct tape is easily obscuring their mouths and their voices are effectively silenced; but it doesn't stop Morgan from trying. His words become mumbled and a strange mix of "hmms" and "humpfffs". Sounds to which Reid promptly ignores.

Rossi's face shows a growing concern. He knows how this ends, and despite how the odds of him living is high, he knows the price is not something he is willing to pay. He will not pay for his life with Reid's. The gears in his head are whirling rapidly and he quickly realizes that his options are limited since he is unable to speak.

He steals a quick glance to Hotch who returns the stare with an equally worried look. Adam catches the exchange and his voice breaks the dreaded silence.

"Shall we get started?" The inflection shows it's not a question. Adam grabs a knife from his bag and slowly stocks toward the youngest agent. Morgan's protest become more prominent. "Careful, you might hurt yourself Agent Morgan, I would hate for- what do you call him," Adam feigns thinking for a moment before exclaiming, "oh, I would hate for pretty boy's efforts to be for nothing."

Adam shifts his focus to Reid and states, "Honestly Spencer, I promised not to kill them but if one of them indirectly gets themselves hurt or dare I say killed- hardly my fault, truly."

A wicked grin accompanies his words and Reid cannot help but shudder. The youngest gives a pointed glare in Morgan's direction and as his eyes leave him they linger upon the others as well. He is giving them a warning- daring them to make his efforts for nothing. Everyone quiets.

"Well then, let's begin."

The knife glimmers in the artificial light of the lamp and the air seems to become just a little bit colder. As a warning Adam states, "Now, keep that mouth shut."

Without further warning, the knife plummets from above Reid and jabs painfully into his abdomen. Reid's eyes water at the intrusion. This is only the start. Before anyone can make a sound Adam again breaks the thick silence.

"You know; I did some extra research on you Spencer. After you initially caught my attention I thought I'd spend some extra time learning about Spencer Reid of the FBI." He stresses the last words as if implying something no one else in the rooms seems to understand. Morgan begins to thrash about. "Now, Now." Adam directs at Morgan. Tsking his hands as he goes.

"Play nice, I know I am." A shriek of a laugh expands into the room. Prentiss shudders at the sound. She has seen some horrible things in her time, but despite all her coping abilities, she is not ready to see Reid hurt. Not on her behalf.

He's the baby, the innocent one, the one who was supposed to make it out of this job and be happy. Out of everyone on the team, Reid was the one who was supposed to make it.

No longer able to contain her sobs, the room fills with Garcia's muffled wails. Her entire frame is shaking and the chair beneath her seems to sway with her unsteadiness. Despite sitting down, it looks like she might collapse.

JJ is not faring any better. Reid merely bows his head in resignation and Adam continues. The knife is removed, red seeps from its origin. Reid's crumpled shirt is now stained red, but he can't bring himself to care. What does a ruined shirt matter now?

Everyone watches as Adam takes the bloodied knife and drags it across Reid's shoulder- just skimming the blade along his shirt. Seconds later and the shirt is torn and ripped from the man's frame, he now sits with his bare chest exposed. Reid shivers.

Again, his attacker drags the knife almost lovingly across his shoulder from his rotator cuff to the protrusion of his clavicle. The knife is dull, edges chewed and misshapen. The cut is superficial at first. Then the blade is angled ever so slightly and pressure is applied.

Just like those dead victims, Adam is elegantly filleting Reid's skin from his muscles. Such a fine distinction where those two anatomical features conjoin.

Reid's face contorts in pain and his lip is bleeding from where he is viciously biting it. His usually soft features have become taught with tension; it is noticeable how much effort it takes to not let out a sound.

By this point, Garcia is crying uncontrollably, JJ is following suit, Morgan is in a blind rage, Prentiss is unusually stoic but slightly shaking, Hotch is quietly blaming himself, and Rossi is cursing to high hell that it's a Friday.

"I found some interesting things about you. Does this family of yours know who you really are? Deep down inside?" Adam drops the blade unceremoniously and the clatter of it hitting the ground is music to their ears.

"Jonas Walker. Ring a bell?" The mad man's attention darts from Reid to the rest of the occupants of the room.

"Did any of you wonder why two years of Reid's life- in all known records- is seemingly nonexistent?" Adam wonders toward Hotch and rips the duct tape from his lips. "Answer me, honestly please." The please is halfhearted.

"Yes--" He is abruptly cut off.

"I see. Why don't we enlighten your friends or maybe we should get one more opinion, what do you say Spencer?"

Adam is tall, nearly as tall as Spencer but his fame is dense. His broad shoulders protrude from his neck and his striking green eyes make this particular man stand out. He has the stance of a military man, but the discipline of no such soldier.

Garcia's mouth is freed from its restraint and all it takes is a head nod for her to understand the reasoning. "Tell my goddess of all things technology, were you ever able to solve those strange missing two years?"

Her makeup streaked face bends in distress as she hiccups, "No." Her sobs lead her unable to get any other coherent words from leaving her pink lips.

"Well, perhaps it is about time these people learn about how tainted their boy wonder is."

Reid's face pales at the implications of Adam's words. His entire frame begins to shake and tears begin a steady flow from his eyes. He is shaking his head profusely, but to no avail. This is a battle he knows he has already lost.

"Why don't you tell them Spencer."

Reid's head bows in defeat as he mumbles, "I was locked in the basement of a man named Jonas Walker." The words reverberate throughout the room.

"Surprised are we? Please tell us more." Adam urges and to his amusement, the man continues.

"Hankel wasn't my first time being kidnapped. I did terrible things to survive that basement." His voice drops to a whisper; his eyes are casted to the floor.

"I don't know if I deserved getting out of that hell."

The room falls silent, until Adam strikes his watch in consideration. The mental torture was a part of Adam's MO the team had not been able to realize until seeing it firsthand. Under the rules, Reid was always aloud to speak, just not lash out in any form. No blasphemy, no screaming or begging, no talking his way out of things, no distractions from the real point.

"Now that's a half hour everyone. Who's leaving this party first?"


	4. I know What It Feels Like To Die A Desperate Man

After a designated deliberation time, it is decided that Garcia be the one to leave. It was an easy choice for everyone aside from Garcia herself. The decision is swift and certain and Adam- in response- gives a bow, unties her, and escorts her from sight. The room falls into labored silence.

"Reid." Hotch's voice is soft, pleading and it takes everything within himself not to break down. "Reid, don't do this." Reid's brown eyes roam about the occupants before him, and everyone sees something spark within him.

"It's going to be okay. I can take it." Before a reply can be given, Adam rejoins the group. 

"Well, Miss Garcia is safely wondering the streets now." Hope ignites within the BAU team and their capture quickly says, "I doubt she'll be of any help to you all. I am afraid I lied."

Hotch is the only one whose mouth is no longer obstructed and voices what everyone else is thinking, "What about?" Adam thinks a moment, his head tilts slightly to his right in contemplation.

"I realized something about you Spencer."

Reid, shivers. He's sweating now, as blood oozes from his wounds. He cannot find the strength to reply and merely resorts to keeping his mouth shut. Only slightly disappointed with the lack of emotion from Reid Adam continues, "I believe you. You would do anything for your team. So let's change the game? Shall we?"

Reid's words are harsh, "We made a deal."

"And let us make another." Is Adams reply.

"How can I trust you will hold your end of it?"

"You can't, that's the fun part." A laugh erupts from his frame and it reverberates throughout the room. Hotch goes to make a plea, but is quickly shushed by Adam.

The lone agent, sits still and then bows his head in resignation, "What do you have in mind?"

Reid's mind is spinning. If he can just manage to get out of his restraints he can make a move. He can do something, anything. His patience is slowly leaving him, and he knows he has little time- he needs help now and he and Adam both know if he dies before the end of this game his team will not survive.

As Reid's head begins to swim and black dots obscure his vision he knows that the knife wound to his abdomen has hit something important. He's bleeding to death.

"Untie me." Reid's voice is steady. Adam lets out a bark of a laugh and saunters over toward him.

"And why would I do such a thing?" Again, Adam's head tilts slightly to his right and his hair falls diagonally across his brow.

"You want me to suffer. Untie me, and I will show them what I have to remember Jonas by; I will let them see the truth. That's what you want right?" The man before him takes a few cautious steps back until his form hits a sold object that stops his movement.

A sinister smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. "Very well."

In mere moments, Reid is untied and standing before his team, eyes watering. "It--it was a long time ago guys, I just don't need another reason to be different," he whispers. JJ's nods her head in understanding and sends a glare toward their unsub for causing Reid so much pain.

But, before Reid removes the rest of his tattered shirt, he swiftly turns to face Adam. Visibly willing himself to stay upright.

"You're jealous. Your father- out of his two boys- chose your brother over you. He could care less about you, you were not perfect and what's more, your father wasn't even willing to spend time to make you perfect. You--"

Reid is interrupted by Hotch's protests, but they are short lived as Reid continues to rant. With each word Adam gets closer and closer to Reid and before he can continue speaking Adam strikes Reid, hard.

The agent loses his balance, and is sent crashing to the floor. Arms out in hope of cushioning the fall. Everyone seems to hold their breath as the scene unfolds before their eyes, unable to speak out.

Morgan is rocking in his chair and his face is taking on a reddish tint, anger coloring his face. His brows knit from pure rage. Rossi has a knowing twinkle in his eyes as he watches the youngest fall at Hotch's feet.

One hit wasn't enough. Adam is livid. His movements are uncoordinated, but he still manages to remove the gun from his belt, holding it directly in front of him- pointing right at Reid.

The last thing everyone hears is the echoes of a gun shot and time seems to stop.


	5. I'll Watch You Walk Away, Just As I Walked Away From You

Everyone is holding their breath, no one dares to speak. It's almost as if everyone has been frozen in place- silence reigns over the room. Then, in a flurry of commotion and chaos sound echoes and screams fill the room.

Reid is still laying upon the floor, his back meeting the cold ground. His arms are stretched out before his body, a gun clutched in his hands; a gun that belongs to Hotch. A slight waver accompanies the grip. He's breathing heavy and his eyes are locked on the body mere feet from him.

Before anyone can speak, Reid drops the gun. It falls the small distance to the floor and everything seems to start again. Reid's mind is spinning- his hands shaking and his body in shock. His gaze slowly lingers upon Adam's frame before he loses his focus and begins to stand. His legs are unsteady, knees shaking and weak. Blood is everywhere.

"Reid" Hotch questions. He goes to say more and is quickly interrupted by Reid himself.

"I am going to untie you guys now." His voice is barely above a whisper. By now, his shirt has completely fallen from his frame. Somehow, despite the knowledge of the occupants of the room- time has considerably passed. Dawn is approaching. A slight hue of gray blue entering the windows.

Reid pivots, and everyone catches a glimpse of the young genius' back. Scars linger upon his frame. Jagged lines of white tissue that gives contrast to the nearly perfect skin near them. Smooth skin runs into concave bumps of unhealed skin- lasting marks of some kind of sharp instrument. A few long scars are painted upon his back, others are smaller or made from a different unknown weapon.

A few marks pull at the young man's upper arms. It doesn't go unnoticed that many of the lasting marks are reminders of defensive wounds found on many of the victims that have crossed their paths. Among the old scars in painstaking obviousness are new ones. The once pristine skin again laced with malicious intent.

JJ lets out a somber cry, muffled by the duct tape. Reid seems to realize his vulnerability and his face becomes ashen- more so than it already is. His eyes shine with unshed tears and he quickly turns to face the team. Just like his back, his torso is covered in scar tissue. An untold story of stab wounds, bullets, and scars created from unnamed objects. The team's faces show great contemplation and concern.

"Reid" Hotch tries again. Instead of an answer, the agent saunters toward each member and in turn removes the duct tape and unties them. Hands shaking.

Minutes pass without a word before Morgan questions, "Reid, what is all that." It doesn't take a direct approach for Reid to know what his friend is asking about.

Reid tilts his head in shame before replying, "Like I said, I spent two years in a basement fighting for my life." When it became apparent he isn't going to say more, Morgan continues to question.

"What did that man do to you?" His tone is soft, the atmosphere is somber.

"Nothing." His tone is barely audible but certain. "Jonas didn't lay a hand on me." The statement suppresses the air around everyone, and silence entails. Confusion on each team members face. "When this is all done, I'll tell you guys. Just--just not yet, okay?" The last word is practically whispered. If they hadn't been listening so closely they might have missed it.

As if unable to stand any longer, Reid drops unceremoniously to the floor. A combination of blood loss and stress is flooding his system. After a few deeps breaths he finds himself in the corner of the room using the wall as support. Without it, he would surely fall over.

His features are pale, and his eyes are sunken inward. Dark purple colors beneath his eyes- one of the many physical clues to his exhaustion. The rest of the team- realizing his declining state, hold off their further questions. Now is not the time nor the place. Their first priority is getting Reid checked out- he's lost a lot of blood.

It is then that sirens begin to sound. Flashing lights of red and blue shine through the window coloring the room with artificial light. It is then that everything falls into place. The events of that night, the implications for the future.

Morgan is pacing back and forth while Reid sits silently awaiting the police. Morgan every few seconds sends a worried glance in Reid's directly, unknown to the quiet man. No one dares approach him- giving him the space they know he needs, but keeping a watchful eye on his condition none the less.

It isn't until moments before the police and medical personnel arrive that Morgan stops his paces and falls to Reid's side. It took a mere moment. One moment Reid seems okay and the next his eyes had rolled back and his form had begun to fall. Morgan, in his frantic state is yelling for the police and medics to hurry. Between the urgent calls are mumbled accusations and silent curses.

Among the spinning Prentiss and JJ are huddled together, exchanging soft words and quiet support, their eyes never leaving their youngest. Rossi is near Hotch, who is holding a phone in his hands diligently speaking with the responders about the current situation. He had been the one to call for help.

When the officers finally enter the building everything falls into an orderly chaos. The room becomes a hub of voices and miscellaneous sounds. The area is filled with a kind of business reserved for crime scenes; and I guess that's what the area has become.

Paramedics are frantically working on Reid- who in a span of minutes has gotten progressively worse. As they rush the agent out the doors Rossi lets a silent prayer fall from his lips. Careful Italian rolling from his tongue, oppressing the air.

The enemy was defeated, but the war still rages.


	6. Time Heals, But the Memories Remain

Everything happens so fast after the police arrive. The BAU teams stands in surrender, backs taught with tension, heads slightly bowed. It takes a few moments before Morgan's voice breaks the silence of the team.

"Where is Garcia?" His tone is quiet, barely audible over the fuss of everything else. Everyone seems to think for a moment, before Hotch retrieves his phone and dials the familiar number. The phone rings, and everyone waits patiently. Hotch's face is stoic and contained.

After the third ring, JJ is noticeably concerned, but before more thought can be brought to the forefront a flurry of color catches her eye. 

"Where is he? My boy wonder, where. What are you all doing just standing there?" Garcia's voice is shrill. A loud invasion of the depressive atmosphere. And that's all it takes. The members of the BAU are awoken from some kind of strange place.

Paramedics are haphazardly around the group trying in vain to check if they are okay- and in their own way each member is pushing them aside. They have greater things to worry about than their minor scrapes and bruises.

How they manage to leave the scene is nothing short of a miracle. It took a few harsh words from Hotch, a controlled tone from Rossi, and the angry curses from Morgan to get the team permission to leave. They were all fine after all- the paperwork would be dealt with later.

Garcia is controlled by Morgan as he whispers in her ear the events of the rest of the evening and the unit walks together to their vehicles in hope to make it to the hospital in record timing. Garcia's questions seem to have reminded each member that their youngest is fighting for his life. It's adrenal that fuels them now.

The ride is brief. No one dares to speak- an unsaid pack to keep quiet. Speaking makes everything real. 

As Hotch strides into the hospital the rest of the team quickly follows. He's wearing a pair of jeans and a shirt that had been randomly thrown on when he had rushed to the FBI building. His hair is barely smoothed down and his gaze is wild. His eyes showing a fire that is ranging within him- he's worried.

The rag tag team find the main desk and are guided in the general direction of where Reid was taken minutes before. 

The waiting area is stark, white walls with little on them to accommodate for the unease they create. The room smells of sterilizing materials and there is a quiet murmur that seems to be continuously circulating.

Hotch stands, his head bowed with his right shoulder pressed firmly against a wall. His shoulders are stiff and his entire body is firm, resigned. He hates hospitals.

JJ and Prentiss find a seat in the white, plastic chairs. Prentiss is whispering soft words to JJ as she sits doubled over. Her hands on her face and her elbows resting diligently upon her knees. Her blond hair falls sporadically about her face, the ends dancing along her thighs.

Garcia and Morgan are standing a few feet from JJ and Prentiss, Morgan wrapping his strong arms around her. She's shaking, and crying. Marks of mascara streak her cheeks.

Off to the side, waiting patiently is Rossi. His posture is straight, a simmering aura of calm radiating from his form. His eyes linger upon each member of his team as if he is keeping watch- and perhaps he is. His arms are crossed in front of him and his stance is wide and firm. His breaths come in even intervals- out of everyone, Rossi is the one in control. He is the one who needs to be.

It's many hours later, before they hear the first snippets of news.

"Family of Spencer Reid?" The medical personnel whose voice enters the room is clothed in bloodied scrubs, a face mask still around his neck. Everyone seems to gravitate toward him.

"That would be us." There's a scrutinizing glare, before the doctor continues.

"I've been briefed on his situation. So it should be alright that I speak with you all about his condition." His tone is authoritative, certain. Despite his disheveled appearance his voice emulates an aura of steadiness.

"He's going to be okay--" and those are the only words that matter in that exact moment. All the extra, miscellaneous things seems to fall away to the main concern. Spencer Reid is going to be fine.

\----------------------------------------------

The next couple of days pass in a blur. The first day they are allowed to visit Reid, he had been too tired or in too much pain to hold much of a conversation. If everyone is being honest with themselves, they would admit that seeing him in the beginning is almost too hard to bear.

He is fragile, small. His features are masked with unvoiced pain and his skin is pale. It seems as if the spark in his eyes will be permanently missing.

It isn't until three weeks later that Reid is allowed to go home. His joy to leave is evident to everyone.

"Ready pretty boy?" Morgan calls. Reid nods his head with renewed energy. Morgan chuckles to himself at the kid's antics.

Over the last couple of weeks, the team had closed all the lose ends to the case. Mainly to finish it before Reid got better- that way he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore. Questions still linger about Reid's past, but that seemed to be a conversation for when Reid was back on his feet- so everyone had held off on their curiosity and focused on getting Reid back to one hundred percent.

"You know you can talk to me right?" Morgan's voice, while usually strong and commanding comes across almost timid. He's been thinking about how to start this conversation millions of times in his head. None of the conversations have ever ended particularly well so far.

"I know." Is Reid's muffled reply. His brown eyes meet Morgan's gaze and they just stand right outside the hospital doors for a few minutes, staring. The sun is peeking out from behind a cloud and everything is peaceful.

"Tonight." Is Reid's last words before he walks further, making it to the vehicle seconds before Morgan nods his head and follows.

Rossi is planning a dinner for Reid's return to the world. Reid's single word has been a promise- he would share, but with everyone and only once.


	7. I Need Forgiveness, The Kind Only I Can Give

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all. This is the final chapter, hope everyone likes it :0. Feedback is always appreciated, and any ideas for stories would be great! Enjoy!

The sun has just dipped below the horizon, and everyone is eager for the evening to begin. Reid is sitting in one of Rossi's armchairs that gives view of the kitchen, watching lazily as Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia move about the kitchen readying dinner. An amused smile dances on his lips as he watches Rossi in distress over what the girls are doing to the kitchen and the meal.

Morgan is seated near Reid, looking at Spencer for any clues of distress. His nerves are bothering him, he both wants to know about Reid's past and is scared to know about it simultaneously. A strange mixture of emotions are creating turmoil.

Hotch is standing at the threshold of the kitchen and the area in which Morgan and Reid sit. His face is neutral, but if one looks close enough they can pick up the small smile that turns the corners of his lips ever so slightly.

It isn't until dinner is served and eaten, that Reid begins to speak. His voice barely above a whisper.

"Well, you all know--um, well his name was Jonas. I was sixteen." He stumbles over his words for a few moments before continuing. "I had been walking around, trying to clear my head. My mother had had a particularly bad episode that day. I needed the space, I guess."

Everyone's eyes are glued to the young man. Giving slight nods of encouragement and concern. Reid seems to lift his head slightly before he drops it and begins again, speaking to his hands. His long fingers are desperately grasping at each other in his lap, and he stares at them as if they are the most interesting things in the world.

"He owned a large duplex, with a concrete basement. It was an abandoned place, far out of the city. I am not entirely sure how it happened, but one-minute I was walking home and the next I was chained in an unfamiliar place."

Reid's voice quiets and he seems to think for a moment, lost in thought. Rubbing his wrist absentmindedly.

"What happened down there Spence?" JJ's gentle, the question nearly startles the kid. He seems to realize he is telling them a story and nods his head in acknowledgement.

"Right well, I wasn't the only one he took. There were five of us in total. All about the same age I think. I am not really sure. Jonas would see us once a day with a sacrifice that would need to be made in order for the whole group to get rations of food and water."

Reid finally lifts his head and looks everyone in the eyes.

"It was simple things at first. If one person didn't eat one day, everyone else would be given food. If no one would make the sacrifice, no one ate. He had been interested in the psychology of group dynamics, or so I had thought."

By this point Garcia is quietly crying, as Morgan lays his hand on her back in hope to sooth her. Reid is shifting uncomfortably.

"What else did you have to do?" Rossi questions.

"Um, well--we." Reid tugs at his hair nervously as he takes a moment to order his thoughts.

"Eventually we would be given a lighter or something and be told that if one of us hurts one of the others in the group we would be given food or water or he would turn the lights down so we would be able to sleep."

"He um, he wanted to see how the dynamics of the group would change. In the beginning we fought, no one wanted to be the one who got hurt; but almost everyone was willing to use the lighter or whatever it was."

"After days without foot, water, and sleep we all finally compromised. It would be a rotation of sorts. I don't know who came up with the idea, but everyone had agreed. It worked for a while, but then injuring each other wasn't enough."

"I was there for a month before one of the other boys killed one of the other kids so we could get food. It had been long and bloody- I think I lost all the food I had eaten beforehand."

"How did you escape?"

"It had been my turn, to you know- to hurt someone. I had been given a butcher knife. Jonas had decided to watch us this time- he usually was never in the basement when things went down. He had cameras everywhere so he could watch what was going on elsewhere I assume."

There is a long pause, before Reid murmurs, "I killed him."

The room fell into a heavy silence. Reid kept his eyes downcast, not meeting anyone's eyes. Prentiss takes her hands and encloses them over Reid's, he looks up in shock. She gives a reassuring smile before speaking quietly.

"Why is that not in your file?"

"The man had been the son of a senator, the entire case was thrown under the rug- and honestly most of us that got out alive were just happy to put the whole fiasco in the past."

"Oh my poor baby." Garcia coons. "You know we still love you right?"

Her voice seems to ease the tension and Reid gives a hesitant smile. The rest of the details are mentioned briefly when someone asks a specific question, but ultimately Garcia's words put an end to the conversation.

As the night continues everyone seems to be in a strange kind of reflective mood. Quiet and brooding. Rossi has tried to lighten the mood hours earlier, but it seems everyone was determined to be a bit melancholy. It isn't until everyone is about to leave that Hotch speaks.

His tone genuine and vulnerable.

"I am sorry that you were forced to recall what happened to you in that basement, but I am not sorry that you told us Reid. This is just another reason for us all to realize and admire your strength. We're a team, but we're more than that." 

The words seems to reverberate throughout the room. An all encompassing silence ensues. Reid's eyes meet Hotch's and everything seems to fall into place.

"Family takes care of their own."


End file.
